Lone Wolf
by DamselInDeduction
Summary: A Were!lock fic for Halloween! Sherlock has always been able to resist the pull of his wolf. Until his true make gets too close. An AU taking place inside A Scandal in Belgravia.
1. Chapter 1

_You always say such horrible things. Every time. Always... Always._

 _I am sorry. Forgive me._

 _Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper._

Sherlock slammed closed the door to his bedroom, leaning back against it. The shivers running up and down his body became stronger, echoing the pain he would no doubt experience once the transformation was really underway. He was sweating, his breathing labored and his mind a fog except for one word.

 _Mate._

The word reverberated around his brain, in synch with his heartbeat. He never should have gotten so close to her. He'd been pushing her away for years now, it should have been easy to do it again tonight. But when he'd leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek, her scent was so strong. Sweet cherry, bright lemon and something darker, earthier. A mouthwatering scent that called to the most primal part of him.

Thank god for Irene's text, or everyone he cared about would know that Sherlock Holmes was a werewolf.

He'd never had trouble resisting the pull of his wolf before, but he'd never spent so much time in the company of Molly Hooper. And every time she brought him coffee or hovered near him in the lab, his wolf would scent her and begin vying for control. Wanting- _needing_ to claim his mate. Sherlock had said such awful things to keep Molly at a distance.

But this damnable party fell right on the first night of the full moon, when it was hard enough to control the pull to transform. But when Molly walked in with her hair down showing more skin than he'd ever seen, it took everything he had to keep his wolf down.

The changes were beginning to take hold. Already he could see his black hair lightening to the reddish blond color of his wolf form. His vision was blurry, so his eyes were probably shifting too, to green-gold. The pain was starting, still manageable for now but that wouldn't last long.

 _Mate. Close._

Oh God. Molly was still here. Taking a deep breath, he could taste her scent on the air and he couldn't hold back a yip of excitement. His wolf was ready and pushing to be free.

 _Mate. Mine._

"Sherlock, I- are you OK? I thought I heard you cry out-"

She smelled so good, so sweet. Sweet Molly Hooper, she deserved better than him. If he were to let her in, would she run? Would she turn in fear or disgust?

No, this was Molly, his true mate. She'd still care. Still love him. Wouldn't she?

"I'm so sorry, Molly, about, what I said earlier. I didn't- ah, didn't mean it." The pain had arrived, and Sherlock could feel the sweat pouring down his back. His bones would begin breaking and resetting into his wolf form soon.

"Sherlock, you sound like you're in pain." She frantically tried the door handle, but he was still sitting on the floor blocking her way. "Please, let me in, let me help you."

"If I wasn't everything that you think I am, Molly – everything that _I_ think I am – would you still want to help me?"

"What do you need? Sherlock, please, open this door!" She was near tears now; he could hear her voice breaking.

 _Mate. Upset. Comfort._

Sherlock rolled himself away from the door and sat back on his knees. He could barely keep his head up, as Molly burst through the door and dropped to the floor in front of him. She crouched down to meet his eyes and stroked his face, moving the sweaty ginger fringe off his forehead.

"You." He looked into her eyes, trying to smile. "I need you."

"Sherlock- your hair- what- and your eyes are so green." She checked his pulse to find it racing, but her other hand never stopped stroking his jaw.

"What's happening to you? Are you- you need to go to the hospital." She started to get up, but he grabbed her arm.

"Molly, there's something I need to tell you, but there's no time," he growled. He could smell her fear as she noticed the change in his voice. It was sharp, altering her scent.

"I won't hurt you. No matter what I look like, know that I won't hurt you. You must trust me."

"Sherlock, I-"

Molly was cut off by a guttural roar. The sound of cracking bones sent her scrambling backward into a corner of the room as Sherlock took on his altered form. His shoulders widened until his once immaculate white shirt was in tatters, exposing muscular arms and a broad chest covered in reddish-brown fur. That fur extended down to his larger than normal hands, and fingers that had become claws.

Even his face was changing, as that striking bone structure shifted into a muzzle. His eyes were now almost completely gold with only faint swirls of green left.

Clad only in Sherlock's suit trousers, a huge wolf-like creature lay panting on the floor.

Seeing it with her own eyes didn't make it any easier to believe.

Molly Hooper had watched her beloved Sherlock transform into a wolf right before her eyes. Although frozen in fear as his human cries of pain gave way to growls and keening, she never looked away. She wanted to understand, wanted to help him if she could.

She'd heard her share of stories and legends about werewolves over the years, but she had no idea what she was actually dealing with here. The only thing she knew for certain was that Sherlock had told her that he wouldn't hurt her and she trusted his word.

His breathing was calming, but he still hadn't moved apart from the steady rise and fall of his ribcage. Molly gathered her courage with a shallow breath.

"Sh-Sherlock?"

His head turned toward her so quickly that all Molly registered was a flash of red fur before his golden eyes were boring into hers. He slowly moved his body into a crouched position, but his gaze never wavered. He tilted his head as she studied her, and began to make a soft growling sound.

It took Molly a moment to realize he was speaking to her.

"Mate. Fear."

He lowered his head slowly and stretched his muzzle toward her hand until she could feel his soft breath on her fingers.

"Comfort?"

She hesitated only a moment before opening her palm to him, and he nuzzled her gently. Molly felt a small smile tug at her mouth and she felt some of her tension draining. She began to gently stroke his face and head and he leaned into her touch affectionately.

His fur was soft and for a moment Molly wondered if Sherlock's dark curls would feel this good to the touch. Biting her lips, she let herself look him over, noting his more muscular shoulders and back and almost itching to touch his strong thighs.

 _He's just as gorgeous, even as a bloody werewolf._

"Mate happy." And with that he closed his eyes, sighing happily and curled further into her lap.

It took her a moment before she realized what he had said.

"Mate? Sherlock, I don't under—"

The wolf pulled out of her lap and tilted his head at Molly once again. He shook his head at her, looking almost confused.

"Wolf. No Sherlock."

Molly blinked a bit as her mind raced. She'd watched Sherlock transform, and he'd seemed to know what was happening to him. How separate were his human and wolf forms? Would he remember this conversation? And why did the wolf seem to think she was his mate?

Obviously Sherlock didn't feel the same. His scathing comments on her body earlier in the evening were a very clear testament to that and Molly's stomach clenched at the thought.

The wolf began to whine a bit, his eyes large and shining with concern. He pulled further from her and stood to his full height, which looked to be slightly taller than the human detective. He offered hispaw to Molly and she took it, allowing herself to be pulled up from her protective position in the corner.

"Mate afraid?" He kept his eyes on the hand he was still holding.

Molly gave a nervous chortle, before shaking her head.

"I'm sure I should be terrified, but strangely, no. I'm not afraid of you, Wolf." She gave him a shy smile, one he returned. "But, I'm sorry. I don't think I'm your mate."

Once again he tilted his head, looking puzzled. Then he stepped close to her and leaned down, nuzzling the juncture of her shoulder and neck and inhaled deeply. She felt as much as heard him growl softly, almost a groan before his tongue swiped the most sensitive part of her neck.

Molly felt a shiver of excitement run down her spine and she jolted back from him. Her eyes were wide in surprise but when she looked up to Wolf he was smirking at her with a smile that she'd absolutely seen on Sherlock before.

She found it just as sexy now as then.

"True mate." He gave her a very deliberate nod.

"I'm not a wolf like you."

"Wolf turn Mate." His tongue swiped his front teeth and Molly tamped down the whimper starting in her throat.

"This is madness," she whispered, more to herself than to the wolf in front of her. The old Halloween stories about werewolves were running through her mind. They bit humans to turn them into wolves like themselves. She should have been horrified, frightened for her life.

Instead, she was intensely aroused by the thought of Wolf biting her and claiming her as his mate. She prayed he wouldn't notice as she clamped her thighs together.

But Molly watched him take a deep breath almost scenting the air, and his smile widened.

"Mate want Wolf." He stepped toward her slowly but purposefully.

The moment was interrupted by the tinny strains of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer coming from Molly's mobile.

"I—just wait. Wait one mo, I'll just," she gestured to her clutch on the floor and watched Wolf tilt his head again, his seductive glances having changed over to confusion.

"Hello? Mike, yes. Ummm, you too, Merry Christmas…"

"Right now?.. No, I understand. I can be there fairly soon, I'm just, uh…"

"Yes, see you soon."

Her hands were shaking as she ended the call. Wolf was staring at her but he no longer looked confused. He looked worried.

"Wolf, I have to go. They need me at the hosp-"

"Mate want Wolf?" he asked quietly. He hadn't moved since she'd taken the call but his eyes were wide and a bit sad. It struck her that although Wolf couldn't speak as well as Sherlock, he certainly expressed his emotion more freely. Molly wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad.

"Mate _likes_ Wolf," she told him with a small smile. "But, when you're human, when Sherlock comes back… He won't want me." She was working hard to hold back tears.

He closed the distance between them quickly and took her face between his massive paws.

"Wolf want Mate. Human want Mate." She could see that he was trying to make her understand, trying to convince her. If only the man wanted her the way his wolf did.

She turned away from him as she lost control of her tears.

"I'm sorry, Wolf, I—I have to go." Molly ran out of his room, and pausing only to grab her coat off the rack, ran out of 221 Baker Street.

She walked almost half the distance toward St. Barts before the mournful howl of the wolf she'd left behind faded completely.


	2. Chapter 2

"Poor girl, it seems you and I are both having a difficult Christmas. You more than me I would think," Molly spoke to the body before her. She was a young woman, and it was obvious she had been quite beautiful before her face had been smashed in. There was apparently no next of kin, but a government official was coming in to identify the body.

A little odd, but not the strangest thing that had ever happened in this morgue,

"Do you make a habit of speaking to the deceased, Miss Hooper?"

Molly nearly jumped out of her skin and turned to see a tall rather regal-looking gentleman standing just a few feet away. His three-piece suit was quite obviously bespoke and he leaned nonchalantly on a black umbrella. He might have looked casual but something in his manner told Molly this was not a man that ever really relaxed.

Which reminded her of a certain detective.

"Then again, my brother does seem to prefer his doctors on the, shall we say, eclectic side?" the smile on his face didn't quite reach his eyes. "May I take a look at the body now?"

"Of course, uh, Mr. Holmes, is it?"

"Yes, the elder of brother of one Sherlock Holmes, with whom I know you to be acquainted?" The strange emphasis he placed on the word made Molly blush a bit, but she quickly got back to work.

She moved out of the man's way so he could better see her face. "The face is a bit, sort of, bashed up, so it might be a bit difficult," she told him with a bit of awkwardness.

"Show me the rest of her."

Molly was a bit uncomfortable, exposing her like this to someone not related to her, but if it would identify her and bring a little closure it might be worth the indignity. Biting her lip, she pulled the sheet down to the woman's knees.

With a distasteful look on his face, he scanned the woman's body before nodding to Molly.

"You may cover her." He lingered near the dead woman's shoulder and after Molly did as he'd asked she watched him lean down and bring his face close to her neck. To anyone else he would have appeared to be taking a closer look, but after meeting Wolf tonight Molly was convinced that Mr. Holmes was trying to catch the woman's scent.

 _So was this Holmes a werewolf as well?_

Molly looked back up at the man who was now scanning her up and down with the same seriousness he had just afforded the deceased woman. It was a look she was used to, but from a different Holmes altogether. She was being deduced.

In her nervousness, she tried to make small talk. "So you are- um, well do you know her then? Was she the person you thought?"

He didn't say anything for a moment, as though he were still processing information. He furrowed is brow and tilted his head slightly, still staring at her. Then his eyes widened and a half smile slid onto his face.

"Hmmm. You may list the deceased as one Irene Adler," he stated staring at Molly.

There was something about the statement that Molly didn't trust.

"Are you completely sure, Mr. Holmes?"

"No, but it doesn't really matter. What matters to me tonight is why you have rejected my brother when you are clearly his true mate."

Molly's mouth dropped open in shock.

"I don't, I didn't reject him, I j-just..."

He sighed wearily and gathered his brolly. "May I see you home, Miss Hooper? Perhaps I can answer some of your questions."

"Thank you for the ride, Mr. Holmes." Molly wasn't sure what else to say, as they'd been sitting in silence since the pair had been ushered into the back of this large black Mercedes almost five minutes ago. Her stomach was in knots as she thought about Wolf.

"Don't thank me yet, Miss Hooper, as one or both of us may come to regret this conversation." He spoke facing forward, never turning to look at her. "I typically despise small talk, but as we may yet find ourselves related, I am making an effort."

"Is he alright, Mr. Holmes?" she asked quickly. "I d-didn't mean to hurt him, I just..."

"Are you worried about the animal or the man?" He had now turned a bit and was watching her closely.

Molly's nerves were frayed, and she needed answers. Taking a deep breath she straightened up her spine.

"Sherlock spent his evening pointing out my physical flaws to a room full of people. A few minutes later I learn that Sherlock is a werewolf and that thinks I'm his true mate. I'm worried about all three of us."

"Miss Hooper, you are operating under a rather large misconception." Mr. Holmes rapped on the partition and the car came to a stop. He then unbuckled his lap belt and turned to face Molly directly.

"Sherlock is the wolf and the wolf, Sherlock. They are one in the same."

She looked down at her hands, folded neatly in her lap. "But Sherlock doesn't want me."

Homes rolled his eyes. "If you won't listen to his wolf, that's certainly your option. Perhaps it's only fair that you reject Sherlock as it seems he's been terribly offensive to you."

Molly's eyes shot up to meet those of Mr. Holmes.

"But it's quite obvious to me that you hold affection for him regardless. So I will give you one last piece of information and then send you on your way. Sherlock will not be able to shift back until his wolf calms down, regardless of the sunrise. As his mate, your presence should calm the wolf enough to allow his human side to reemerge with the morning. Then you two can have your little heart-to-heart." The last phrase was delivered with such a sneer of disgust that Molly might have laughed out loud, had she not been in such an emotional state.

"Mr. Holmes, if you don't mind me asking, are you a-, uh are you a wolf as well?"

Mr. Holmes ignored her as he turned back to his sitting position, eyes forward, and refastened his belt.

"I've suffered enough conversation for this evening. We have arrived at your destination, Miss Hooper. Pleasant evening." His voice was polite, but flat.

Molly thanked him as the driver opened her door. She was rooting through her oversized striped bag trying to locate her keys, when she realized something was off.

She heard the black car drive away as she realized she had been dropped off, not at her own flat, but in front of 221 Baker Street.

"Wolf? It's Molly, are you here?"

She carefully let herself in to 221B with the key Sherlock had given her for the purposes of delivering body parts from the hospital. Although at the time she was slightly offended to be treated as some sort of morbid delivery service, she was glad for the key now.

The flat was dark, but between the light of the full moon and the glow of street lamps, she could make her way through the flat well enough. It was after 1am on Christmas morning now, and Molly was exhausted physically and emotionally. But she had to make things right with Sherlock. And Wolf.

"Mate?" The gravelly whisper cutting through the silence should have frightened her, but it was so soft and sad that it caused a twinge in her chest. She turned her head slowly toward Sherlock's bedroom and saw golden eyes peering at her from the shadows.

"I needed to see that you were alright. I didn't mean to, to just… _leave_ you. I was scared and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She was near tears now and she stepped toward him, unsure of whether or not he would accept her again.

Her answer came in a flash of fur as he rushed to her, lifting Molly off the ground and cradling her to his chest. He was keening, and Molly stroked the fur of his chest trying to calm him.

"I'm here, I'm here, Wolf," she murmured into his shoulder.

Wolf walked them into the bedroom and gently lowered her to the bed. The high-pitched wailing had stopped, but he wasn't quite relaxed yet. He wrapped his body around her, seeming to take comfort from her presence, but hadn't quite found a position in which to settle.

Molly was not moving at all. She was thoroughly exhausted, and his warm fur felt so good all around her that she could feel herself drifting to sleep.

"Mate stay?" he asked quietly. Wolf had curled up next to her, with his arm thrown protectively over her middle and one leg crossed over her own. His face was close to hers as he gazed down at her.

"I will stay tonight, Wolf, but I need to talk to Sherlock before I can be your mate. I need to know that he wants me."

Wolf turned his face up to the ceiling and gave a happy little yip, making Molly chuckle.

"Mate happy?" Wolf looked at her so hopefully that she turned toward him and placed a light kiss on his nose.

He gave her a quick lick on the lips in response.

"Ok, down boy," she laughed. "I need to sleep, but maybe in the morning I can talk to Sherlock?"

Wolf nodded. "Human want Mate," he told her very confidently, which did actually reassure Molly quite a bit. She allowed her eyes to drift closed.

Wolf tightened his hold around her.

"Mate sleep. Wolf protect."


	3. Chapter 3

_Mate want Wolf. Want human._

 _-But what if I hurt her?_

 _Comfort mate._

 _-What if my enemies try to hurt her?_

 _Kill danger. Protect mate._

 _-It's really not that simple._

 _Mark Mate. Keep Mate. Protect. Comfort._

 _-And what if she leaves?_

 _Find. Speak. Comfort. Love._

Sherlock would only be able to confer with his wolf for a short while before the pain of the shift came upon him again. He was in his wolf form, not really being able to see or do anything in this body, but he could tell by the calm contentment of his mind that Molly was near him.

Up until that moment, he hadn't realized he was frightened of her reaction to his wolf. That heart he so often denied having would break if she rejected him and the heavy secret of his duality.

But knowing she was here beside him, he was able to relax and enjoy a moment of peace.

That peace did not last long.

The first tremors started to run through him, and his wolf began to fret in anticipation of the pain. Pulling away carefully from Molly, he recovered her with a blanket as gently as he could with shaking paws. With a last affectionate glance at his mate, he lowered himself onto the floor on all fours, and prepared himself for the shift back to human form.

He watched his fur recede, giving way to his pale skin. The fringe hanging in his eyes changed from the reddish brown back to his nearly black curls, which now dripped sweat onto the floor. So far he'd been able to stay quiet, allowing his Molly to sleep undisturbed as long as possible.

But once his bones began to break and reset themselves, he could no longer hold back his anguished cries. He was roaring now, and with each breath his voice become slightly more human sounding, the roars giving way to screams.

A cool hand was wiping his brow, and a voice was trying to comfort him. He couldn't make out the words she was saying, but he recognized Molly's voice and her efforts to keep him calm.

 _She's so good. So good to me. I need her. I need her._

"What can I do, Sherlock? What do you need?"

He must have been speaking, although probably not making much sense. It was almost over, the change was almost complete. He leaned into the hand stroking his face, searching for her comfort.

"You. I need you, Molly. Molly, my Molly," he chanted as the pain receded.

He opened his eyes and his blue-green human eyes met the brown depths of Molly's. They were open and honest eyes and they shone with affection for him. Perhaps even love.

"I'm going to get water and a cool cloth for you. I'll be right back," she explained to him, but Sherlock wasn't ready for her to walk away. He grabbed her wrist holding it tightly.

"Don't go. Don't leave me, please," he exhaled on a shaky breath.

"I won't leave you, I'll be right back. I just- let me take care of you, alright?"

Reluctantly, he released his hold, and lowered his face to the cool floor. Sherlock focused on slowing his breathing as he listened to Molly in the other room. He heard her run the water and her light steps heading back toward his bedroom.

It felt right to hear the sounds of Molly in his home. Her sweet scent on his pillows. She belonged here, belonged with him. Why had he fought this so hard for so long?

 _Relationships may not be my area, but they are Molly Hooper's area. And I trust her to teach me._

"Sherlock, can you sit up?"

At Molly's voice he turned to gaze up at her and nodded slowly. He slowly rose to a sitting position, his legs splayed out in front of him, and Molly crouched down beside him offering a glass of water.

After he gulped it down, she took the glass from him and handed him the damp cloth. He wiped down his face and neck as she hovered next to him. She seemed uncertain and shy and Sherlock knew they would need to talk soon.

"Molly, I want to tell you so many things. But I also need rest." He tried to explain himself carefully. "Will you help me to bed? And… stay with me?"

"Of course. I meant it, Sherlock. I'm not leaving. Not unless you send me away."

She woke up to a nuzzling at her neck, and for a moment Molly forgot that the Sherlock Holmes curled around her was not her Wolf.

Without opening her eyes, she chuckled darkly her voice heavy from sleep, and reached her hand back to stroke his muzzle. But instead encountered a very human jawbone covered in rough stubble.

Her eyes shot open and a nervous rush of adrenaline shook the fog of sleep from her mind.

Sherlock was awake.

The same Sherlock that told everyone that her mouth and breasts were too small, that thinks her jokes are awful.

But also the same Sherlock that didn't want her to leave him, even to get him water.

And somewhere in that beautiful, brilliant mind was Wolf, who wanted her for his mate and wasn't afraid to tell her.

"Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper," he purred into her ear, pulling her close against his chest, his face nestled into her neck.

It was her own little Christmas miracle, waking up next to a cuddly Sherlock Holmes. Molly wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms wrapped in a blissful denial of the conversation the two of them had to have. But the longer she stayed in his arms, the more anxious she became.

"Your scent has changed. You're nervous, but trying not to be." Sherlock pulled away from her and she immediately missed his warmth. But he tugged her over until she lay on her back looking up at him, and he propped himself on his elbow, gazing down at her. He tugged the duvet over them to the waist.

"In the space of one night you've learned my two biggest secrets, Molly Hooper."

She stared up at his face trying to understand him. There was the fact that the consulting detective was in fact a werewolf. Yes, she certainly had stumbled upon that. But what was the other one?

He must have read the confusion on her face, and smiled sadly down at her as he traced her jaw line with his index finger.

"I have been consistently awful toward you since the first time I met you. I thought you were beautiful, and therefore an obvious distraction to be pushed away. But your scent was divine and the moment I caught a whiff of it, I knew you were my true mate. And I was terrified of you."

"It might have been easier to stay away if you weren't so bloody wonderful at your work, Dr. Hooper. But seeing you in your element, so capable and amazing, drove my hunger for you until I was nearly maddened by it. And in trying to control myself, I hurt you over and over again."

"But when I was cold and aloof, you were warm and friendly. Where I was manipulative, you were genuine. You shared your heart with me and I callously lashed out at you last night, in front of our friends. And I'm so sorry for it now, Molly. Because I have hurt you deeply, and I fear you may never trust my affection for you. And I do love you, Molly. With all that I am."

She gave a small ragged gasp. She never thought she'd ever hear the words leave his mouth, never really thought he'd feel as strongly for her as she did for him. Her eyes welled with tears as she smiled up at him.

Sherlock lowered himself over her, and her eyes fluttered closed as he placed a light kiss on the corner of her mouth, followed by another sweetly chaste kiss on the fullness of her lips. Her eyes were still closed when she heard him whisper over her, his breath warm on her lips.

"So I offer myself to you, Molly Hooper, my true mate. If you'll have me, both human and wolf, I would like to be with you for the rest of our lives."

He continued to pepper kisses down her jaw and neck, and finally light touches of his lips right at her pulse.

As lovely as those light kisses were, Molly needed more. She reached up to Sherlock wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard, her tongue running along the seam of his lips demanding entrance. And when his mouth opened to her, she stroked his tongue with her own, causing him to groan.

He pulled away from her for a moment, wild-eyed and panting.

"So that's yes, you'll be my mate? Because I don't want to hurt you, but mating means I'll bite you. And I am worried if I lose control…"

He was cut off by a surprisingly strong Molly shoving him onto his back. She felt powerful, knowing that Sherlock loved her and wanted her. Not for a quick shag, but for a mate.

Once he recovered from the unexpected move, a slow smile spread over his face. He watched her carefully, seeming to wonder about her next move.

She straddled his shirtless torso and ran her fingers over the lean muscles there, watching them ripple with tension. In one smooth motion Molly pulled her Christmas jumper over her head leaving her clad in only her trousers and a black lace bra, which she removed hastily, wanting to feel her bare skin against his. She laid herself on Sherlock's chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat beneath her hand.

Laying her head near his shoulder, she gazed at him.

"I have a feeling ours will never be an easy relationship, Sherlock. But I have always loved you and I trust you with my life. Please, make me your mate."

Sherlock tugged her up closer to his face and wrapping his arms around her, kissed her passionately. Molly reached up to his dark hair, running her hands though his curls. And when he bit down on her lower lips, she pulled on those handfuls of hair, eliciting an erotic grunt from his throat.

When he pulled away this time, Molly could almost see the glint of a predator in his eyes. He winked at her before flipping them over and pinning her down under the weight of his own body. She could feel his arousal pressed against her and she rolled her hips up, offering delicious friction and she would swear Sherlock growled.

"Clothes off," he commanded through gritted teeth. The two of them scrambled to remove one another's clothing, Sherlock peeling away her trousers and knickers in a single move. Molly, however, was too busy stroking Sherlock's impressive erection to actually remove his shredded trousers.

"Patience, woman," he chided as he pulled away to remove the last of his clothing.

The sight of a naked Sherlock Holmes crawling over the bed toward her with a wickedly sexy gleam in his eye had Molly nearly breathless with anticipation. She could almost see the wolf in him, the graceful way he moved, and the predatory way he looked at her. And she was very willing prey.

"One of the perks of being part wolf," he purred as he slowly crawled up her body, "is that I can smell your arousal. And it is even sweeter than your own perfect scent. Delicious." And with that, Sherlock pushed her knees wide, opening her to his attentions as he swiped his tongue over her seam. Molly shivered as his tongue lapped at her clit and his fingers stroked her gently, before entering her slowly first with one finger, then two.

She began to thrust her hips, loving the friction and the building pressure of that talented tongue. Her orgasm was gathering, she could feel the tension begin to spiral. Sherlock must have felt it too, as he suddenly thrust his fingers deep within her curling them just so. At the same time he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked.

Molly screamed his name as she broke apart for him. He continued to stroke her as she drifted back from her bliss, and when she met his eyes he was smile broadly.

"As I said, delicious."

Molly gave a light laugh, too sated to disagree.

Sherlock pulled her up into his arms, until Molly was sitting on his lap. He kissed her deeply, coaxing her tongue to enter his own mouth allowing her to taste her own orgasm. It was maddeningly erotic.

He broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers.

Sherlock ran his fingers over the juncture of her neck and shoulder. "This is where I'll mark you, and there will be pain. But hopefully, enough pleasure as well. Are you ready, my love?"

Molly pulled her hair aside and exposed her neck to him.

"Make me yours."

He took her mouth once again, sweetly and deeply, his hands buried in her long brown hair. When they broke apart in their need for breath, he moved to her neck tonguing his way to the place where she'd soon bear his mark.

With a quick nip that made her squeal, he purred into her neck.

"On your hands and knees, my beautiful mate."

Her eyes widened as Molly hurried to position herself before Sherlock, wiggling her arse suggestively as she got comfortable. Sherlock ran his hand up and down her back, from her back of her neck to the dimples at the base of her spine.

Sherlock took himself in hand, running the length of his hard cock against the wetness of Molly's outer lips. Molly pushed back against him, wanting more friction, wanting to feel her mate inside her.

"Please, Sherlock. I need you," she keened.

He placed himself at her entrance, and moved his hands to grip her hips. He pushed slowly into her, stretching her inch by inch, stroking his fingers on her soft skin. Molly heard him breathing heavily, trying to control himself.

"So tight, God, Molly, the feel of you," he groaned

Once he was fully inside her, he leaned over her kissing his way up her back, and Molly let her body adjust to the perfect stretch of him inside her.

Sherlock gave a hard thrust as he reached her neck, and Molly gasped. He laughed against her skin, and began rolling his hips into her lazily, building up a rhythm.

He felt perfect inside her and she reveled in every thrust, moaning as they became more and more demanding. Sherlock's hands digging into the flesh of her hard now, and Molly loved every bit of it. She wanted to feel him lose control, lose himself in their moment together.

Molly was pushing back into him now, meeting him for each punishing thrust and hearing his animalistic grunts above her. She threw her head back and Sherlock grabbed up her hair, tugging her head and pounding into her. She was nearly there, just on the edge of her precipice, and she could feel her muscles flutter and tighten around her mate.

With a roar, Sherlock pulled her up to his chest, as the hand still twisted in her hair exposed her long white neck.

Molly came with a cry of her mate's name just as Sherlock's teeth broke the skin of her neck, the pain mixed in with the waves of pleasure and then there was nothing but blackness.

"Molly? Molly, my love, wake up," a voice called sweetly. She turned toward it, but gasped at the shooting pain in her neck. Her eyes opened and she found herself sitting on Sherlock's lap, his arms wrapped around her.

"I bandaged the wound, but there will be a scar. You're my mate now, even your smell has altered a bit." He passed her a glass of water, and she sipped at it. "Are you alright?"

"I thought I would feel different. I mean, I'm a very good sort of sore," she stated as she watched a shy smile find its way onto Sherlock's face. "I guess I thought being a werewolf would feel different."

Sherlock took the glass from her, setting it aside. "You're not a wolf yet, my love. But I'm glad you're not opposed to being turned."

She turned herself in his lap, careful of her neck, and looked up at the love of her life with confusion.

"The mating bite is first, binding us together. You'll be able to sense me near, possibly even recognize my scent. But we'll have to wait until a different full moon to turn you into a wolf. I'll have to bite you again, this time while I'm in my wolf form."

Molly beamed up at him. "I like your wolf."

"Trust me, love, he likes you too," he retorted with a smirk, before he leaned down and placed a light kiss on the tip of her nose.

Molly turned around in his arms, leaning her head against his shoulder as his arms came around her waist, cuddling her close.

"Merry Christmas, Sherlock."

"Merry Christmas, my Molly."


End file.
